I'm Falling to Pieces
by faeriegirl12
Summary: Despite the girl living in Jace's mind, life goes on like normal until the family everyone has feared since before Jace was born returns to the small town of St. Arren's. When St. Arren's awakens with danger, Jace finds himself fighting for answers. Who really is the girl in his head? -He wasn't just her secret, he was just hers. She wasn't just in his mind, she was just his.- AU.
1. Chapter 1: The Girl in His Head

**I'm Falling to Pieces**

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><p>Jace's only friend is someone he's never met— a girl he's talked to in his head for as long as he can remember. His life runs slowly on like normal despite the girl living in his mind until the one family everyone in his small, quiet town of St. Arren's has feared from before Jace was born returns. When St. Arren's bursts awake with danger, Jace finds himself fighting for answers. What has happened to St. Arren's? Who really is the girl in his head? She wasn't just in his head; she was just his. He wasn't just her secret; he was just hers. AU.<p>

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><p><strong>DISCLAIMER: Not mine. :(<strong>

**Chapter One: The Girl in His Head**

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><p><em>You don't have to be afraid<em>

_You don't even have to be brave_

_Living in a gilded cage_

_The risk is that you'll go insane_

-Flume feat. Moon Holiday, "Insane"

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><p>The sky was grey, clouds promising rain later in the afternoon. Tall trees with branches half-full of crimson and sunset-orange leaves lost some to the chilly gust of wind as it swept through the woods, rustling the golden hair of a boy with his back up against a tree trunk.<p>

Lonely as he may have appeared, Jace Lightwood was anything but. A small smile graced his features as a familiar girl's voice bounced questioningly around the confines of his mind.

_Tell me about your family again, _pressed the girl eagerly.

_Okay, _Jace agreed. _Who first? _

_Your parents._

_My parents' names are Maryse and Robert Lightwood. They aren't my real parents because my real ones were killed right after I was born. Maryse and Robert are nice enough, a little distant, and overall, I'm thankful that they took me in. Next is my brother, Alec. Alec is difficult to describe, but he's like his parents—slightly distant, but he puts up with me really well. He used to have a sister named Isabelle, except she was brutally murdered by an unknown killer. _

_That's sad. About Isabelle, I mean. _

Jace sighed along with the wind as it whipped among the trees once again. _Clary, you've heard this story more times than I can count. Besides, I never knew her. _

_I don't care, it's still sad, _Clary responded fiercely. _I wish I knew your family. You're lucky, Jace. _

_Not really. _

_My family is a load of asshats. I'm not kidding. _

"Jace!"

Jace's head jerked around as he was abruptly yanked out of his mind and back into reality. He was used to it though—he talked to Clary for the majority of his time. Most people considered him an outcast and "in his own world" as a result.

Alec skidded to a halt above Jace, leaning against the tree, gasping. "Why'd—you—skive—off—again—"

Jace blinked up at Alec. The other boy had recovered from his sprint into the woods, and was glowering down at Jace. "What do you think?"

Alec glowered harder. "It's not a joke, all right? Your grades are dropping, the teachers dislike you—"

"Look," Jace interrupted, pushing himself to his feet, "I really don't care about school."

"But—why—"

He shrugged. "I don't like it. Everyone thinks of me as odd because I'm not jumping to socialize with them."

"Maybe if you just stopped speaking to _that girl—" _

"Don't talk about her like that!" Jace found himself snapping at Alec. "Her name is _Clary." _

Alec looked very exasperated and tired. "She—Clary—_whatever—_isn't real."

Jace felt his jaw tense. "You don't know _anything,_ Alec."

"She's not real," Alec repeated slowly, each word driving into Jace like spikes. "This girl is a figment of your imagination."

Jace stared at the other boy. Alec was scowling heavily, his face creasing with anger and irritation. _Why doesn't he get it? _"You. Don't. Know. _Anything." _

"I know that you need to stop living inside your mind," Alec retorted. "This imaginary friend situation is getting ridiculous. You can't go on doing this."

Jace was blindly angry; more furious than he remembered. He could almost feel the metaphorical steam coming out in buckets from his ears. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Shut up."

Alec's dark blue eyes flashed a warning at Jace. "I'm doing this for your own good, Jace."

"Nothing needs to be done 'for my own good!'" Jace found himself shouting. "I can take care of myself. I don't need _you_ to hover over me at every minute. God."

"I was just trying to—"

"You weren't trying to _anything. _Leave me alone." Jace crossed his arms, glaring at his brother until the other boy's shoulders sagged in defeat and he trudged back the way he came from.

_You really need to get a handle on your temper, _Clary told him sternly. A faint smile spread across Jace's mouth as he imagined a random girl shaking her finger at him.

_Like you're any better?_ Jace thought at her. A few seconds passed before Clary replied, and Jace waited, shivering slightly as another gust of wind wrenched more fiery leaves from their perches on the trees' branches.

_Well, not really, _Clary conceded. _Except Alec genuinely wants to help you. That's all he was trying to do. _

_He hates you! _

_So do lots of people. _Clary sounded vaguely amused. _So you'll be nicer to Alec from now on? _

_Fine, _Jace grumbled. _I highly dislike being nice to people. _

_You're nice to me, idiot. _

He found himself grinning. There was some quality about Clary that always made him feel better. She seemed to be the only person, imaginary or not, that could coax an authentic smile and laugh out of him. Everywhere else, he went around pretending to be a person he wasn't, but she constantly brought out the best in him.

_You're a special case. _

_How sweet. I'm truly touched. _Undertones of sarcasm riddled Clary's voice. All of a sudden, she went quiet. A hazy image floated into the edges of Jace's mind: a boy with white hair, his mouth open with a yell. . . _I. . . I have to go. _Vague panic sounded through Clary's voice. Jace barely had time to say goodbye before she was pulled out of his mind and he out of hers.

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><p>"CLARISSA!'<p>

The name boomed through the manor, ricocheting off the ornate foyer and the spiral staircase. It hit the vaulted ceilings, nearly shattering the dirty glass panes in the windows. In the third floor and the bedroom farthest to the left, a girl carefully pulled herself away from a very dusty window seat, her fingers skimming over the thick glass once last time before she straightened her long dress with colors faded from time before she rose slowly to her feet and began to descend the staircase until she was at the foot of it.

"Yes, Father?"

"Why didn't you come when I called you?" snapped her father.

The girl shifted uncomfortably inside, although she kept her outwards appearance rigid and coolly calm— just like she'd been taught. "I was straightening my dress, Father."

He stared at her, a small sneer distorting his mouth. "Is that all?"

The girl bowed her head in submission, eyes staring at her shoeless feet. "Yes, Father. What else could I have been possibly doing?" Innocence crept into her tone.

"Don't play games with me, Clarissa," he hissed poisonously. "My sources have told me where you were seen yesterday."

The girl swallowed. Was he going to beat her? Curse her? Who had told him? Or who had seen her?

"Father!" Another girl flew swiftly down the staircase, her ancient dress trailing behind in her wake. "Clarissa did nothing wrong, she only–"

The man surveyed the second girl coldly. "What have I told you about running, Lilith?"

Lilith halted gracefully and stared up at her father with a look of resentment. "I don't know."

"You told us to not run anywhere," Clarissa piped in a monotone.

"And both of you will do well to remember that." The man's eyes narrowed superciliously at the two girls. "As I was saying before, Clarissa's punishment shall be—"

"But she did nothing wrong!" Lilith burst out. "She was with me in the parlor, I can vouch for her—"

"It is your word against your brother's," he said silkily. "Jonathan has always been truthful and honest to me in the past. Whereas you, Lilith—"

"Father, you don't know if Jonathan is even telling you the truth!"

The man's eyes narrowed once more in a menacing fashion and Lilith shrunk back, although the defiant glare didn't leave her face. "Clarissa, your punishment is confinement for five days. If you are caught anywhere near the weapons room again, you shall be beaten. Understood?"

"Perfectly," muttered Clarissa as her father swept down the corridor in the direction of the sitting room. When she was certain he was gone, she turned to Lilith. "Why'd you try to cover for me?"

Lilith blinked at Clarissa. "You're my sister."

"This is a house of traitors, liars, and utter scum and rot," Clarissa snapped obstinately. "Family has been demoted to mean nothing at all."

"Haven't you noticed that not all of us live by that?" Lilith shot back instantaneously. "Not everyone goes by _their _morals."

Clarissa was silent for a moment, twisting a loose piece of her faded dress in her hand. "I know."

"Hey," Lilith replied bracingly, "at least Father didn't beat you. Or force you to fight Jonathan."

Clarissa's eyes burned bright and furious. "I could have won against Jonathan! I could have beaten him."

"Clarissa—"

"I hate it when people call me that," Clarissa said flatly.

Lilith examined her sister, tilting her head to the side the smallest bit. "Well, I hate it when people call me 'Lilith.'"

Out of conversational topics, the two girls fell silent until footsteps sounded down the bend of the corridor. Lilith spared a panicky glance down the bend.

"It's Jonathan," she hissed. "Get out of here, Clarissa."

Clarissa's head whipped left and then right before she darted up the staircase, well past the second landing before Jonathan strode out into the hallway, smoothing his hair back with one hand. He stopped in his tracks once he noticed Lilith standing in the center of the corridor.

"Hello, sister."

"Why'd you tell Father about Clarissa, Jonathan?" snapped Lilith, completely foregoing a greeting as she glowered at her brother.

He looked unaffected, arching an eyebrow in Lilith's direction. "Tell Father _what, _Lily?"

"About Clarissa, you ba—"

Jonathan smirked at the blatantly angry girl quivering with rage before him. "Don't let Father hear you calling me that."

"I'll call you whatever the hell I like," snarled Lilith. "You almost got Clarissa beat!" Her voice rose in pitch and volume with every word.

"Lily, I never told Father anything about Clarissa," Jonathan answered, his voice soothing.

Lilith stared at Jonathan for a second before she told him, "You're a lying bastard."

"Look, Lily, I'm sorry—"

"Apologize to Clarissa, not me!" Lilith glared one last time at Jonathan before she began to ascend the spiral staircase. Halfway up the first landing, she stopped and shouted back down the stairs, "_And stop calling me that!" _

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><p>It was the third day of Clarissa's confinement. She was only allowed out of her ornate, fragile room for the bathroom and meals, neither of which provided much gratification. If she was lucky, she could sneak in a word with Lilith while she stood in the bathroom to brush her teeth. Meals meant that her father sat at the head of a long mahogany table draped with an elaborate runner that hung in floppy triangle silk shapes off the edges of the table while everyone either stared at each other or avoided conversation and eye contact all together.<p>

Clarissa tried to evade Jonathan all together. _He was the one that ratted me out to Father—why should I spare him a word in the first place? _It helped that Lilith was equally vexed towards their snake-like brother. However, the rest of the manor clearly didn't share their feelings. Her mother and father praised and glorified the already spoilt Jonathan, which was enough to speak for itself.

She curled up in the same window seat she had been brooding in before Father ordered her to confinement in her room, the same seat from where she had thought of the mad idea to steal away into the weapons room. The gloomy, grey view out the window agreed perfectly with her mood. The only spouts of color were the vibrant crimson-decked trees lining the front walkway. She wished she were outdoors, even if the weather was rainy and dull. Anything would've been better than being put in her room like it was an iron-barred cage.

_Jace? _Clarissa called out in her mind. Jace was a friend of hers—the only friend she'd really ever had—and someone she had never dared told her father about. He was her secret and she was his secret.

_Clary? _ She couldn't help the wide smile that bloomed upon her face. Jace was the only person who called her "Clary." It was a nickname he created for her when she told him she hated her real name when they were six.

_Where are you right now? _

_School. Nothing terribly exciting. _

_Can you tell me about it? _For some inexplicable reason, Clary enjoyed hearing Jace regale her with stories from his life. They felt so familiar and comforting and utterly _ordinary _that they nearly made her feel like she was normal too.

_All right. I just went through the school halls to eavesdrop on a multitude of fascinating rumors about me. Apparently half of the girls consider me a 'hot bad boy.' _Clary could almost hear his smirk of arrogance. _Now I'm considering ditching again. _

_Why? _

_Would _you _want to be stuck in a hellhole? _

Clarissa could sympathize with that far too easily. _Father doled out confinement as punishment. I'm trapped in my room for five days. Today is the third, and I'm going mad. _

_If it makes you feel better, I'm trapped at school for five days a week, every week unless I skip. _

_Is it easy? Skiving off class like that? _

Clarissa could hear his sarcastic, bitter laugh. _Much too easy. _

_Good. I'm getting out of here, Jace. Want to go on an adventure? _

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><p>Jace was plotting to ditch Tuesday by hiding so deep into the woods that even Alec wouldn't be able to find him until Clary begged for him to attend school because she was bored out of her mind. With a heaving sigh, he agreed. As he strode through the halls, whispers bounced off the walls and into him like yesterday, but this time, the peanut gallery wasn't gossiping about his outcastliness.<p>

"They're back."

"Who?"

"_Them._ Everyone around here knows who they are."

_Who's "them"? _Jace wondered soundlessly, noting the note of mingled reverence and fear the pair in front of him in maths class spoke of. "They" were splattered in hushed tones all over the school: hissed in fear, cursed in bewilderment, whispered about in astonishment. Everyone knew who "they" were. Except Jace, it seemed.

"I even saw their lights on last night."

"You mean they've returned to that decapitated, ancestral house of theirs?"

"They're back, all right."

Jace couldn't resist turning around during lunch as the people sitting behind him murmured of lights in windows and vague shapes of human figures silhouetted in said windows. He waited impatiently until the dark-haired girl and the brunette boy noticed he was facing them. Normally, they would've turned their noses skywards in disdain. Normally no one would even sit that close to him. But today, and from Tuesday on, it seemed, wasn't going to ever revert back to normal. "Who's back?"

"How do you not—" the boy stopped himself in his tracks, frowning. "Oh, that's right. Aren't you Jace Lightwood?"

Jace fought the urge to snarl something particularly nasty at the boy and his friend. He bit out the smallest piece of a sarcastic remark. "Yeah, I'm Jace Lightwood." The dark-haired girl blushed, a pink hue spreading across her cheeks and Jace winked at her before he asked them one last time, "Who's back?"

The boy and girl exchanged a quick glance. "You live right next to them," the girl muttered slowly, her cheeks still bright pink. "Shouldn't you know?"

Jace put on his most charming smile. "Why don't you tell me, then?"

"The Morgensterns. The Morgensterns are back."

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><p>Those four little words—<em>the Morgensterns are back—<em>swept through St. Arren's like a virus. At every corner, every alley, every pub, anywhere and everywhere, Jace found the underlying, lilting hiss of, _The Morgensterns are back. They're back. _He didn't know who the enigmatic Morgensterns were. He didn't know what they symbolized. But it was always there now, like the cold wind.

_The Morgensterns are back. _

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><p><strong>NEW FIC TIME! <strong>

**I borrowed the original concept of having two people connected by their minds from the book ****_Unspoken _****by Sarah Rees Brennan, which is by the way, SUCH A GOOD BOOK OH MY GOD. Kami and Jared (Kared? Jami?) are my new OTP. (PS: the sequel is called ****_Untold.) _**

**Sorry that this chapter was sort of short. I tried to put more into it, but it was beginning to sound like a run-on chapter. . . So, basically, Chapter 2 will be longer. That's for certain. **

**Anyways, tell me what you think! Likes? Dislikes? Does the whole thing just need to be reedited? **


	2. Chapter 2: Infamous

**DISCLAIMER: ugh, as much as I wish I owned TMI. . . nope. **

**Chapter Two: Infamous**

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><p><em>How am I supposed to see through your eyes<em>

_When you never even saw the stars were falling at your feet?_

—Of Mice & Men, "Glass Hearts"

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><p>A surprising bout of pure sunlight splayed lazily through the bay window in Clarissa's room. She mumbled incomprehensibly for a second before the persistent brightness prompted her out of bed. Squinting in disbelief, she eyed the cloudless sky, expecting buckets of pouring rain any minute. After all, it <em>was <em>England. She considered flopping back into bed just to irritate Father for another ten minutes before he forcibly dragged her kicking and screaming out of it, but then a thought hit her.

_My punishment is over! _Elated, Clarissa flung open the door to her room, not caring about the way it noisily rebounded against its frame and the snappish "_Clarissa!" _from halfway down the empty, serene corridor. She all but sprinted down the winding staircase, methodically composing herself once she reached the foot. Instead of earnestly leaping into the sitting room, she mechanically hastened the spring in her step, turning the liveliness to a practiced grace Father expected from her.

Just like Clarissa predicted, her father was seated elegantly in the most uncomfortable wooden chair in the entire room. Sitting in it always gave her a backache within five minutes. _I bet the only reason he likes it is so he can look like royalty in his expertly carved throne. _

"Good morning, Clarissa." His newspaper with a black-and-white photo adorning the front page stayed resolutely in front of his face. She took in the stack of newspapers and the small mug of coffee with sugar and cream to his left on the small and just as intricately carved side table. _He's probably been here for a while. _

"Good morning, Father," Clarissa answered respectfully. She stood stoically before him, wavering whether to sneak out of the stuffy silence or wait and listen to his surely reprimanding lecture. Another five minutes ticked by, slow as Lilith at five AM sharp, before the newspaper was finally lowered from his cold features.

"Why are you not in your room?" A dangerous glint sparked his irises and Clarissa shoved her anxiety further into its shallow grave.

"Yesterday was the last day of my punishment. Sir." She barely remembered to add on the "sir" at the end, fearing what was unfold if she had forgotten.

Her father's stare was penetrating and blank. It sliced through her like a million little blades, his beady, black eyes narrowing in a half-angry, half-inquisitive manner. She squirmed; a helpless insect caught under a microscope. After what felt like an excessively stretched-out hour to Clarissa, her father dropped his gaze like a bag of stones. "Very well." The words came out crisp and polished, nearly professional. "I trust you have learned your lesson?"

"I have, Father." Clarissa didn't want to quiver in her shoes, but she couldn't help it. Her father had a frightening quality that hung about him. It made her feel like her heart was sliding down to her shoes and a pack of carnivorous wolves to erupt in her insides. Any time she was pinned like a butterfly underneath his intense scrutiny, fear prickled in her, playing the role of a rather nasty bush of thorns.

"Excellent." His voice dropped lethally. "Next time, I shall not be quite so. . . _lenient." _

"Yes, Father." Clarissa felt like she was monotonously reciting lines from a script. "I understand perfectly, Father."

"Off you go, then." The newspaper was back up in the place of a sharply-tipped gate clanging back down. She blinked at him once, twice before the coffee turned into his crocodile-infested moat and had to resist the strong compulsion to bolt out of there. Barely keeping a forceful grip on her self-control, Clarissa edged her way out of the room, singing the praises of newspapers. As she approached the stairs, Lilith was waiting for her on the first landing.

"Hello, Lilith," Clarissa said, taking in the imposing figure of her sister on the landing.

"We need to talk."

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><p><em>Huh. For once in a million years, it's not raining. <em>A cynical smirk rose to Jace's mouth as he stared out the window. As cynical as he enjoyed being, it was simply too pure and lovely of a day to waste away by spending his time in school. The natural thing to do was use the much-abused lavatory pass to stroll out the front doors of hell. The only reason he stopped by the lavatory was to swing the ugly plastic pass in the third toilet stall. He smirked at one of the office aides.

When he passed by his house, two of the windows in the Morgenstern Manor were lit up even though there was no need for artificial light in the bright, brilliant morning. Jace stopped his saunter to gaze at them with interest; silhouetted in one window was the slender form of a girl. He could vaguely make out the shape of a tall boy next to her. Heavy wine-colored drapes had been drawn over the second window. But in the highest window of the entire house, he could see a girl staring bleakly out of it, her scarlet hair a fury about her pale oval of a face. Jace reluctantly tore himself away from the Morgenstern Manor as he headed back into the woods.

_Clary?_

She sounded gloomy, lifeless almost. _Jace. _

_What's wrong? _

_Nothing. Everything, I suppose. _

Jace paused before he replied gently, _Want to talk about it? _

_I don't know if you'd get it. _Jace felt himself stiffen at her answer. He assumed she noticed the tensing of his mind because a flood of reassurance followed his reaction. _I didn't mean it like that, Jace! I only meant that our lives are so vastly different that it's hard for me to explain these things to someone who isn't involved._

_Try me._

He could feel the defeated sigh sweeping through her body. _All right. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? My parents hate me._

_They can't hate you! _Jace was taken aback. To the best of his knowledge, it seemed impossible that anyone could loathe Clary. She was delightfully witty with a brilliant, fiery personality with an enigmatic quality buzzing about her that drew him towards her. There was truly _nothing _to dislike about her.

_Believe me, they do. I'm a disappointment to them because I didn't turn out like one of my. . . um, relatives. _

_But they shouldn't judge you based on your relative! _Jace insisted, his mind with Clary but his eyes following the rise and fall of the forest's breathing. _Your parents sound like they're full of bullshit._

She laughed darkly. _That they may be, but it isn't as if I can even do anything about it. Listen, I have to go. My. . . relative is calling._

He easily picked up on her transparent lie—she never had been good at lying—but let it go. Whenever she tried to keep things from him, he always knew she had a good reason to.

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><p>The following morning was a Friday, and it dawned crisp and early. Far too early for Jace, as a matter of fact.<p>

_Sodding Alec, making me come to school. I think I actually hate him, _Jace snarled to himself as he crammed himself inside the school's doors. He felt like a sardine; packed into a small space as tightly as possible and squirming until his eyes turned big and empty. When he reached the main corridor, the crowds and clumps of people had already parted like the Red Sea. A fusion of relief surged through Jace; perhaps he wouldn't be the primary object of interest and gossip for once in his short lifetime. Down at the end of the hall were two girls trailing after a blonde boy, who was trailblazing a path through the crush of students like his life depended on it. As the trio stalked closer to Jace, he could see them in greater detail.

The blonde boy was tall, arrogant, intimidating. He had an air of too much charisma that was darker than his eyes and a head of hair that was paler than his skin tone. The two girls were clearly sisters and could've been twins: their hair was red—carroty, scarlet, bloodred—and the same graceful splay of freckles across their noses. One girl was taller and the other shorter, dwarfed in comparison to the elegant blonde boy and the pretty redheaded sister. As diverse as the trio was, they all had one thing in common: their clothing choice and their skin. The girls were clad in ancient-looking, Victorian dresses with faded colors like those of old photographs while the boy's clothing was creased and faded; small white lines spidering out from pocketmarks in the fabric. And they had abnormally pale skin, almost as if all of their life had been spent inside. _Odd. _

A plethora of whispers clung to the three of them like snow as they passed by, regal and uncaring to the world like they couldn't hear a word anyone was saying.

"Who let the monsters into our school?"

"What are _they _doing here?"

"My daddy'll hear about this! He'll get them expelled for sure!"

"The Morgenstern siblings need to find a school that accepts freaks only."

_Hmmm, _Jace mused. So that's who they were. The infamous Morgensterns, who, according to schoolyard gossip, had just rolled into the slumbering town of St. Arren's less than a week ago. Except what was wrong with them? Why did every hate them? He didn't understand. What had the Morgenstern siblings ever done to anyone?

But, of course, he didn't say any of that out loud. Even if someone could read his mind, his opinion wouldn't matter to the mass student body. They would always continue on in their shunning of him, of the Morgensterns, of anyone they deemed unworthy like a pack of angry, vindictive alley cats.

If it was him, he would've snapped at some of the nasty whisperers to _shut up_. But each of the Morgenstern siblings kept walking, their features cool and expressionless, their backs rod-straight, and their eyes devoid of life and laughter.

* * *

><p>"Why does everyone hate the Morgensterns so much?" Jace found himself asking Alec during their lunch period. Sitting opposite him, Alec shifted uncomfortably, the other boy's dark hair falling into his eyes.<p>

"It isn't my place to tell you," Alec mumbled awkwardly, playing with the pen between his fingers.

"To hell with that!" snapped Jace indignantly. "Why am I the only person in St. Arren's being kept in the dark? Everyone else seems to know every little detail about the Morgensterns the minute one of their feet touched this town's soil."

"Maryse and Robert don't want you to know."

"Why not?" He masked his features into a carefully indifferent expression.

"They say it's the best for you."

"Why are they deciding what's best for me?" Jace asked coolly.

Alec stared at him like he was a foreign person he'd never met before in his life. "Look, Jace, they're you're parents, all right?"

"You think I don't know that?" Jace couldn't control the cruel tone that crept stealthily into the plains of his voice. "That doesn't give them _any _right to decide that for me. If I want to know, then I bloody will."

* * *

><p>If she was anyone else, Clarissa would have shifted anxiously under her newly found classmates' stares, glares, and menacing whispers about her and her family. Except she was someone— a someone whose list of personality traits most certainly didn't have "easily intimidated" written anywhere near it. So her reaction was to let the ugly comments slide glassily off her like water, leaving her refreshed and observant afterwards. She hadn't been born in the tiny, English town of St. Arren's, but she could instantly tell that the townspeople knew how to hold grudges and that they were frightened of her, Lilith, and Jonathan. Some of their logic registered with Clarissa, but she couldn't comprehend other halves of it. She knew what her family had done to this town, but she never had any part in it.<p>

Clarissa knew that the constant, repetitious fear and turmoil twisted between her family and St. Arren's went as far back as anyone could remember. Her father and mother had never enlightened her on the concise details, but she knew enough. Her family had caused awful misfortune to St. Arren's and its people for many years. When Valentine Morgenstern and his cousin, Lucian Graymark, grew up in Morgenstern Manor together, the town knew them as the Light and Dark Brothers. Lucian was more openly friendly than Valentine, while Valentine was darkly charming and charismatic. Lucian was the sunshine with a kind word for everyone while Valentine lurked in the shadows, coldly splitting up charm for whoever was weak or brave enough to speak to him.

When Jocelyn Fairchild, Lucian's best friend, moved into the Morgenstern Manor at fifteen, she was portrayed rather like Valentine: cold, pretty, and acted like every blade of grass, every wisp of dawn sunlight, every breath of wind, and seemingly everything in St. Arren's belonged to her. Nobody understood why Jocelyn was ever friends with Lucian. It came as no surprise that she married Valentine Morgenstern when they were both eighteen. The real surprise was Lucian Graymark's murder. Shortly after Valentine and Jocelyn's wedding, Lucian was found in the weirwood with his entrails spilling out from a gash in his stomach. The killer had never been found. Most suspected whoever it was had gotten tangled in their great escape and was either killed or vanished without a trace.

A month after they were married, the Morgensterns abandoned their ancestral home. Not a single person from St. Arren's or anywhere else could figure out where they had gone. Clarissa knew, though. Her mother and father hadn't been murdered— she and Lilith grew up with Valentine and Jonathan was raised by Jocelyn. The first time all three siblings met each other was when Clarissa and Lilith were eleven and Jonathan was twelve. Their mother and father rejoined each other when Lilith and Clarissa were thirteen and Jonathan was fourteen. And now, for a reason unknown to Clarissa, they were back in Morgenstern Manor three years later. She never bothered to ask her father why they went back to the Manor, why he only raised her and Lilith, why he and her mother went separate directions for a few years because her Father would have surely beaten her or worse. Curiosity was not welcomed in the Manor or anywhere else. It had cost Clarissa many bruises and scars when she was younger and sometimes still did. Lilith was much less impulsive and quick-thinking; Clarissa frequently tended to spit out whatever thought lingered closest to the front of her mind.

She couldn't tell if Lilith was bothered much by their classmates' snide remarks, but Jonathan obviously wasn't. In the relatively short amount of time she'd known her brother, his first quality was that most mundane things never mattered to him. He was standing straight on a pedestal while the common folk fought beneath him.

Clarissa shook of her thoughts as she walked slowly into her maths classroom. Everyone else had already taken a seat. The only open one was next to a girl with blonde, silky hair and enormous blue eyes. Clarissa tensed; something felt off about the blue-eyed girl. _Her eyes are too. . . unnerving. _Ignoring the teacher's burning stare, she cautiously sat next to the blonde girl, her back rigidly straight and hands folded in her lap just like Father instructed her.

"Helen Blackthorn."

A slender girl with— Clarissa blinked, hard. She opened her eyes very slowly, and like a trick of the light, the strange tips of the girl's ears were back to normal, her white-blonde hair tucked neatly behind them.

"Magnus Bane."

"Maureen Brown."

Somewhere near the eighth name, she lost count. Her mind blurred into flurries of her father, his imposing, white-haired figure floating restlessly through channels in her mind.

_"I apologize, Father, I do not understand—" _

_"Quiet, Lilith!" _

_"She was only asking a question!" _

_"Quiet, Clarissa! What is so hard to understand about this? You and Jonathan are going to attend school, whether you like it or not." A hidden threat lay barely concealed in his snarl of a voice. "Do I make myself _clear?"

_"Crystal." Clarissa's hands worried the sleeves of her sweater. Jonathan smirked, flipping his white-blonde hair in pure arrogance. Lilith's shoes clicked louder than the heels she poached inside her flimsy bookbag. _

_"Shut up, Jona—" _

Her side stung. She could most certainly feel a purpling bruise forming on her ribcage from the blonde girl beside her. Gasping, Clarissa tore herself out of her memory and looked up. The entire class was staring at her as if she was a sort of exotic animal, prowling in a steel enclosure to be gazed upon in fascination and terror. The teacher stood near the blackboard, his eyes narrowed in mingled fear and loathing as he rapped sharply onto his clipboard.

"I repeat, _Clarissa Morgenstern?"_

She raised her hand, poker stiff, into the air. "Present, sir."

His expression was one of someone taken aback. With a sheepish scratch-slash noise, he made a mark on the role call sheet and Clarissa was close to sinking into her seat like any other person. Instead, she remained rigid and straight-backed in her equally immobile chair.

_Just like Father taught me._

Quickly glancing around the cramped room, she surveyed the class. Everyone else but her was wearing matching clothing: a tie with presumably the school's crest, skirts for the girls and slacks for the boys, and starched white shirts. She supposed she stuck out like a sore thumb. First of all, she was a Morgenstern, and second of all, her clothing was on the opposite end of the spectrum— loose, rainy-grey dress and a torn, ratty green sweater that landed mid-thigh.

Sitting next to Clarissa was the blonde girl with pointy elbows and enormous blue eyes. The pair next to them was Helen Blackthorn, the first name in roll call, and a lanky boy with brown, curly hair and black glasses. She could see a strange, overly colorful book tucked between the pages of his hefty maths textbook. In front of them sat two boys: one with spiky, glittery hair. The pretty sparkles kept falling from his hair onto his shirt and all over the chair and the floor on either side of him. The glittery boy's partner was a petite girl with spidery limbs and dishwater blonde hair. Clarissa could see her tugging the bottom of her rainbow-knit hat down every so often like a repetitive habit. On Clarissa's right was a girl with smooth brown skin and hair that was tightly coiled into springy curls and a boy with aureate eyes and a conceited, bored expression playing out over his face. For some unknown reason, she instantly disliked him. He seemed so supercilious, so arrogant that it made her want to (quite literally) slap some sense into his stupid features.

As the teacher launched into a dull lecture about something called "radicals," Clarissa moved her pencil lazily across a page of loose-leaf paper to make it appear like she was doing something. Instead, she sketched a diamond. Before she knew what she was doing, curved lines were sprouting off the diamond like roots, except they grew thicker and sharper and more defined by the second and—

Her pencil slammed back onto the desk with a shattering noise as it promptly broke in half. Some of the lead came out, rolling madly on the desk's surface. Half the heads in the room turned in Clarissa's direction as she stared fiercely at the paper. Her temples hurt; she could practically feel her head being pounded with a wooden club.

"Is there a problem, Miss Morgenstern?"

"No, I was just— I was only—" Clarissa stuttered before she instantaneously corrected herself, Father's voice biting at her conscience. _Stop stammering and control yourself! _"It was nothing. Sir."

* * *

><p>Once again, the corridor crowds parted for the three Morgensterns like they were lepers; like they had a deadly disease one could catch from being five feet away from one of them. All Jace could see was three people: the boy, tall and intimidating with cold flames flaring to life in his black eyes, the first girl who was statuesque and effortlessly lovely with bold scarlet hair, and the second girl, who was short and small with long, carroty hair and a handful of freckles. They didn't look dangerous; none of them at all. From all the rumors of "I saw the blonde one with a knife first period!" and "Those girls are gonna kill me!" circulating the air vents at the school, Jace was expecting something more like a serial killer when he saw their faces for the first time. Instead, they looked. . . curiously normal, if not for the outdated wardrobe and odd style of behaving. The three Morgensterns carried themselves like they had something to prove to the entire universe and looked as if they would rather shoot up into deep space instead of flitting the dirty carpets at school.<p>

_Hey Clary, _he said during English.

Her voice was warm and relieved. _Hi Jace. How are you today?_

_Bored. Very, very bored. Who cares about sentence clauses? I'm skiving off during lunch. _

_Sounds delightful. _Her sarcasm came through loud and clear. He couldn't fight back the automatic grin that stretched his mouth and immediately looked at the floor; no way was he accidently smiling at the professor ever again. _Can I ask you something?_

_You just did, Clary._

_You're impossible. _Clary sighed, although Jace knew her well enough to tell that she wasn't really irritate with him.

_Go ahead._

_Why do you dislike school so much? _

_Why? _Jace repeated, gathering his thoughts. _Because it's like a prison to me. I hate all of it: the judgmental glares, the gossip, the teachers treating me unfairly. Every damn time it's like someone take away the key and throws it into a well and I wind up in this hell. _He paused. _I didn't mean for that to rhyme._

_Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't intend to bring all of that up. _Clary did sound genuinely sorry, but one of the qualities Jace liked so much about her was that she never had apologies infused with dripping bucketfuls of pity. He hated pity.

_It's not your fault. _

_Don't be sad just because the system's broken. We could fix it! _

_Impossible, _he replied wryly.

_Oh, all right, perhaps it is. I was just trying to cheer you up. _

_Good luck with that._

_Still ditching school? _

Jace answered without any hesitation. _Of course I am. I'm getting sick and tired of listening to this random prat blabber on about clauses and participles and I-really-don't-give-a-crap sort of things. _

_Have fun. _One last peal of laughter rang in Jace's ears before she dropped out of his mind like a weight. Except it was as if she'd taken a pinch of him with her; he could feel that something was empty, something was missing.

He shrugged.

_It's probably nothing. Whatever. You can always talk to her again soon._

* * *

><p><strong>SECOND CHAPTER DONE! And it didn't even take me that long! What is this sorcery?! <strong>

**Exclamations from the internet aside, how's ****_I'm Falling to Pieces _****going? Too boring/slow? Yeah, I feel you. Believe me, I'm dying to Jace and Clary to meet, but I can't randomly pop in "OMG! And then Jace saw Clary! eeeeeee!" Okay, so maybe it wouldn't sound like that. Eh, close enough.**

**Huge thanks to all readers, reviewers, followers, and favoriters! You guys make the world go round :) If I could, I link y'all up to Jace's mind too! Sadly, that's not how reality works :( **

**Also, I have story ideas listed on my profile, so can you pretty please go and check them out? Pleaseeeee?**

**A lot of people really want the ****_Clockwork Academy_**** and COTF updates out. I hear ya, they're coming, I'm working on it. . . albeit slowly (sorry, blame writer's block!). **

**_ANYONE WHO REVIEWS GETS SNEAK PEEK OF CHAPTER THREE. LET ME UNDERLINE THAT SINCE I KNOW DARN WELL MOST OF YOU DON'T READ A/N: _****_ANYONE WHO REVIEWS GETS A SNEAK PEEK. _*****insert arrow here* **

**_Angel:_****First off, I never really thought people would find this story that interesting, but I'm very glad you do! Second of all, enjoy the update :) Thanks for reviewing!**

**_Luvmortalinstruments:_****Hope Chp.2 is equally as interesting and you'll find out. . . someday. *evil laugh* Thanks for the review :D**

**_Guest:_****Thank you! And thanks for reviewing too!**

**_SocialisesWithBooks:_****Do I know why this review made me make a very squeaky noise of happiness? Not precisely. But believe me, I am thrilled that you're hooked! Thanks for the review :)**

**_Jling:_****I hope Chp.2's wait wasn't that long :P Thanks for reviewing :)**

**_wood painted flesh:_****Thanks :) And I absolutely LOVE that series! Has the next book come out yet? I can't find it anywhere, so I'm assuming not. Who's your favorite character? Mine's probably Jared for some odd reason. (Sorry, I get really excited when talking about books haha.) Thanks for reviewing :)**

**_bookwormlover4ever:_****I shall do my best :) Thanks for the review!**

**_Guest:_****Hope you like Chp.2 as well :) Thanks for reviewing!**

**_xp:_****Haha that's my goal! Thanks for reviewing!**

**_AllieCat234:_****First, your screen name is really cute (that sounded better in my head). Enjoy the update :) Thanks for the review!**

**_Guest:_****How's the update? I'm happy you like it! Thanks for reviewing :)**

**_varomitrivia:_****Woah I'm really excited that you like it that much omg! Sorry the CA and COTF updates are gonna be late :( Thanks for the review :) **


	3. Chapter 3: Not Her Jace

**DISCLAIMER: Nope, don't own it :(**

**Chapter Three: Not Her Jace**

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><p><em>The brightness of the sun will give me enough<em>

_To bury my love in the moondust_

_I long to hear your voice, but I still make my choice_

_To bury my love in the moondust_

—Jaymes Young, "Moondust"

* * *

><p>The windows of the Morgenstern Manor were empty. Jace couldn't see anyone in them even though the heavy, elegant drapes were gone. He wondered where the Morgensterns put them— no one had drapes like that anyone. All the Morgensterns seemed to be like that, like they were all living in Victorian London or a whole different time period from the way they spoke to the girls' old-fashioned dresses to their mannerisms. It was strange, Jace thought as he stared listlessly at his beat-up trainers, slowing down the speed of his stride as much as possible. There wasn't much waiting for him besides an enraged Alec.<p>

_Honestly, how does he find out where I am at every damn time? _He shook his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Word that he'd skipped last period got back to his brother, mysteriously enough. _Judging from the amount of angry messages on my voicemail, I'd say he's pretty pissed. _

_Whatever. Not like it matters at this point._

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Jace stole a minute glance from his feet and instantly screeched to a stop: there was someone in front of him— a tall girl with scarlet hair and a faded dress. One of the Morgensterns.

"Sorry," he muttered quickly, attempting to skirt around her. The girl's words made him stop in his tracks, however.

"You haven't seen my sister anywhere in this town, have you?" She sounded worried. Concerned, surprisingly.

"Why?" Jace drew out the word the smallest bit out of curiosity.

The girl's black eyes blinked at him. "That is irrelevant. Have you seen her anywhere?" Each word was laced with an increasing intensity.

"Look," he started, "I've only been walking around for a few minutes."

"You're not answering the question," the girl pressed stubbornly, her dark eyes narrowing in half a glower at him.

"Pushy, aren't you?" he told her coolly. "No, I haven't seen your sister around here, whatever-your-name-may-be."

"It's Lilith," she snapped with a cold glare.

"Lovely name," Jace offered with a hint of charm.

"No, it's not. I quite despise it, as a matter of fact. So if I hear it escape your lips once more, I shall be forced to castrate you," she said evenly.

He smirked. "What should I call you then?"

"My name shall be. . . Lily, I suppose." Lily winced a little at the sound of it.

_They talk so weirdly. What era are they from, even? Or are they just immortal? _"Why don't you like your name?"

Lily shrugged elegantly without even a shiver as a chilling breeze blew through the street. _Isn't she cold or something? _"It's nothing at all. I suppose I should be off to find my sister."

Before she turned away and meandered the opposite direction like a crimson leaf ensnared by the rustling wind, Jace called out, "What's your sister's name?"

A pregnant paused filled the space of concrete between Jace and Lily. She hesitated, teetering away with one foot and closer with the other. "Her name is Clarissa. I really should be on my way."

He watched her float down the cracked, withered street, bright hair gleaming. _Lily Morgenstern. Clarissa Morgenstern. And their brother. _

* * *

><p>"Why were you talking to <em>her?" <em>

Jace cursed inwardly. He had shut the door as quietly as possible, locked it soundlessly, and was on the last stair to his room before Alec materialized behind him, metaphorical smoke pouring out of his ears. He turned around to face the other boy.

"Why does it matter who I talk to?"

Alec exhaled a sharp, short puff of air in an attempt to dispel his anger. "The Morgensterns aren't good people, Jace! They're people you should be running away from, if anything!"

Jace gave an incredulous shout of mirthless laughter. "What do you think Lily was going to do, murder me on the spot? Don't be ridiculous! She's completely harmless; her, her sister, and her brother all are! All she wanted to know was if I'd seen her sister anywhere."

"You're calling one of _them_ by her first name now?" hissed Alec, a millimeter away from appalled. "What, are you friends now?"

"Should it matter?" Jace snapped, feeling himself get consistently more annoyed by the second. "Lily's a person like you! I don't know why everyone insists on treating them like dangerous animals!"

"Because they are!" Alec finally yelled furiously, his face tomato red. "They _are _dangerous and they act like animals, the whole lot of them! The way I see it, everyone in this town seems to have the sense to give them a wide berth but you!"

"You're such a hypocrite! They're outcasts like me—"

"You're not an outcast!"

"Shut up!" snarled Jace, his patience pushed over the cliff. "Just _shut up! _You don't know anything! They're outcasts just like I am, and if you treat them like that, why should I be any different?"

"Because—"

"I thought I told you to shut your damn mouth! The way _I _see it, Alec, this prejudiced town treats anyone who's different from them like they're worthless and dangerous and deserve all the hatred they get! And I have a problem with that."

"But—"

He sighed, all the fight gone out of him. "If you're going to play along with everyone else like you are, then leave me alone. I don't want to see you for a while."

* * *

><p>Lilith dragged her towards a boy with dark gold hair the farthest away from the front of the room— the same bored, arrogant boy from her maths class who looked like a right prick. Clarissa scowled, dug in her heels, and hissed, "Why are we sitting with <em>him?"<em>

Lilith frowned, her effortlessly lovely features contorting into displeasure. "He seems like a decent enough person. I met him yesterday when we were all searching for _you."_

Clarissa said nothing in response. She had ran away to the woods after an incident with her father. Lilith had gone out searching for her. Jonathan pretended he didn't care. Life went on like it usually was.

"Hello."

The boy with the golden hair shot upwards in his seat. "Lily, right? And your name is. . . ?"

_Lily? _Clarissa smiled to herself. "Lily" sounded more like her sister than the formal "Lilith." Realizing that both the boy and Lily were staring pointedly at her, she flushed. "My name is. . . Clarissa. Pleased to be your acquaintance."

The boy shook his head the tiniest amount. "Why are you sitting with me?"

"Why not?" answered Lily with the air of a devil-may-care attitude. "It's not for pity, in case that's why you're wondering."

Oddly enough, a small smile broke out over the boy's features at the mention of pity. Clarissa wondered why. Didn't most people loathe pity? She dismissed it for the time being.

Shaking her head to herself, Clarissa observed the faces of her classmates as they spilled into the classroom. Whispers flew through the door and out windows, some shocked, some accusatory, some worried.

"At least all the freaks are sitting together now. . ."

"Do you think he's. . . _one of them?" _

"What're the Devil Twins doing with poor Lightwood?"

"I never did learn your name yesterday," she heard Lily say curiously to the golden boy. Clarissa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest with defiance; she didn't really care about this boy's name. From what she had perceived, he was everything she hated spun into one package. Even worse was that he was not only arrogant, insolent, conceited, and ridiculously handsome but that he _knew _it. She could tell from the way he smirked at everything, the pretty glint in his amber eyes, from the bold saunter in his stride.

_Ugh, he's annoying. I can't believe Lily likes him. _

"Nice to officially meet you," Lily announced in her confident way that managed to be somehow twined with seduction. Clarissa smirked; Lily talked to nearly _everyone _like she was flirting with them and didn't even know it.

"What did you say your name was again?" Clarissa asked neutrally; the first thing she said to the golden boy.

He smirked at her. She stifled the urge to scowl darkly at him. "I'm not going to say it again. Try to listen next time, short-arse."

"Do you know how incredibly obnoxious I find you?" she demanded. "And don't call me _short-arse, _you arrogant prat."

"Well, you are short and you do seem like quite an arse," he mused. From the tone of his voice, it sounded like he could've been contemplating what one of Picasso's works of art symbolized.

This time, she couldn't help herself and glared at him. "If anyone's an arse, it's you. Bloody prick."

"_Clarissa!" _hissed Lily snappishly. The boy sniggered rudely.

"What it is that you want, Lily?" questioned Clarissa, still locking her fierce glare upon the boy.

"I want you to _stop insulting him!" _Lily retorted angrily, her dark gaze darting between Clarissa and the smug golden boy. Clarissa mouthed, _Shut up _at him. His response was, _Not a bloody chance, short-arse._

_That arrogant prick! _she fumed in her mind as the teacher went on with the dull, sleep-inducing lecture. She could feel Lily's insistent stare and the golden boy's smirk like he was lording his small victory over her head.

_Prat. He's a prat._

* * *

><p>Dawdling in the center of the road and completely careless to the fact that a car could come whizzing towards her at any minute and splatter her intestines onto the concrete in a sort of gory paint was Lily Morgenstern's short-arsed sister.<p>

_Clarissa. Isn't that her name? _

Jace slowly approached the strange girl who was sketching a black shape on her bare arm with a fountain pen. He peered at it; a strong, angular shape with a diamond as the centerpiece. . .

"What's that?"

She jumped in shock. The pen fell gracefully from her fingertips to clatter unceremoniously amongst the concrete. "It's nothing." She raised a hand and quickly blurred the ink from defined, geometric lines into a smudged blob.

"Didn't look like nothing." He looked down at her, at the unusual kinetic energy that blazed to life like a furnace in her eyes, and suddenly he felt something in his chest take flight.

"It was," muttered Clarissa. After a small, comfortable lapse where they continued walking slowly down the street, she looked over to him. "What's your name?"

Jace let a glimmer of a grin to slip through his teeth. "I'm not going to repeat it again."

"Come _on," _she answered, exasperated. "You know mine. It's not my fault I was thinking of how much of a prat you are during History and didn't hear your name. Now tell me."

"Just obsessed with me already, aren't you?" He smirked at her.

"Oh, answer the bloody question."

"Language, Clarissa," he told her smoothly. "Wouldn't your sister murder you for that?"

"Lily's not here right now." Clarissa stared off into the distance and Jace got the impression that he hit a nerve. There was something about that subject that was dipping into dangerous territory.

_What is up with the Morgensterns? Something's obviously not right. . ._

He sighed in defeat. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't have bothered to tell them his name, to keep walking with them. . . but there was a strange quality that hung in the air around Clarissa like stars in the sky. It was familiar yet foreign all at once; watching galaxies that looked tiny until they were imploding and colliding inches away from his eyes. "I'm Jace."

The reaction was instantaneous. She froze, stopping in mid-step, her face paling rapidly like ancient stone cracking after being dealt a heavy blow. Her freckles stood out as if someone had painted them on with oddly vivid paint. "_You're _Jace?"

Jace's eyes met hers. The brilliant emerald green was seeping slowly into his field of view until he felt like it was everywhere, piercing him like miniscule swords. As they stared at each other, something seemed so familiar. He knew her, they had met before, except not. . .

_Shut up, _he commanded himself. _You probably just had some weird dream and now you're first remembering it. Yeah, that must be it._

"I just said that," he replied, the beginnings of confusion starting to register. Why had she reacted in such a manner?

"I. . . I must go," stammered Clarissa unevenly when she reached the ornate, spike-tipped gates that lined the front of Morgenstern Manor. Without waiting for a response from Jace, she pulled out a key from her pocket and began the process of unlatching the heavy iron gates.

Jace shrugged to himself and turned away. If he had kept watching her, he would've seen her throw a surreptitious glance at his retreating form, toss the small key back into her pocket, place her hand over the enormous, complicated lock, and smile in satisfaction once she heard the barely audible click of it opening.

Clarissa leapt up the stairs two by two, not caring if her father was parked in his typical spot by the parlor's fireplace or heading down the corridor to see her disobeying the way he wanted her to walk, wanted her to stand. She sprinted past the third landing, clutching a stitch in her side, and fell through the doorway of her room, kicking the door firmly closed with a foot.

_Jace. The prick is Jace. _Her breathing slowed as she processed the thought. _But. . . he can't be the real Jace. The Jace I know and that utter prat may as well be two different people. Yes, _she decided, _they're not the same person. There's another Jace out there. He might not even exist; perhaps he's not real, like everyone else would say if they knew. . . _

_Jace the Prat is _not _my Jace._

* * *

><p>Jace peered around the corner of the hallway that went between the living room and the kitchen. To his right was a cabinet with photographs of Isabelle propped up on it. Isabelle had obviously been a very beautiful girl with shiny, dark hair and sparkling dark brown eyes. From what Alec told him about their deceased sister, she was also a very much larger-than-life person with a lot of attitude. In front of him was the hope that Alec was still in his room and not cavorting around in the kitchen. With a breath of relief, Jace looked to the kitchen and it was devoid of people, namely Alec.<p>

_Close one, _he thought as relief washed throughout him.

He slipped out the back door, squeezing past a gap in the rotting fence that defined the boundaries of the backyard. To Jace, the fence may as well have not existed because he saw the weirwood as part of the place he lived too.

_Jace? _Clary's voice, uncertain and small, caused him to stop in his tracks, waiting for the continuation of her sentence while watching the weak sunlight filter lazily in through the shedding trees. For a heartbeat, everything was red and gold and orange— fire colors.

When she remained quiet, he prompted, _Yes, Clary? _

_You don't think you're an arrogant and conceited wanker, do you?_

He laughed out loud, startling a few stray birds that had perched on the limbs of a sparse tree. The squawked indignantly as Jace ignored them, focusing on Clary. _Absolutely not. I'm a handsome and kind person. Clearly._

She relaxed. _Oh. Good. _

_What brought that on?_

_I, um, just met this person today and he was quite obnoxious. . . I guess I thought I'd met him before. Anyways, I was wrong. I haven't met him prior to the first time I spoke to him, and I certainly didn't know him. Just another jerk at school. Not much to fret over. _

_Oh. Is that what you were so worried about?_

_Unfortunately, yes. I'm rather silly, aren't I?_

_You're not silly, you were just worried, Clary. It's a human thing. Happens to humans. You are human. All right?_

Her voice came in softer than he expected and somewhat sad. _All right, Jace._

* * *

><p><strong>Okay. Was that a fast update or what? But actually, I think that was the fastest update I've ever done. Too bad I'm stuck with all my other stories, though. <strong>

**Quick clarification: Max Lightwood is also dead. I know it didn't say that at first in Chapter One, but I'm running over to fix that. So both Izzy and Max are dead :( You may be wondering my reasons for that, but I didn't just remove them because I wanted to. So yeah.**

**I know a lot of people are dying for Clary and Jace to meet (I think that'll either be Chapter Four or Chapter Five) and it's coming up soon! So hold your impatient horses, readers.**

**There's a lot of names/nicknames in this fic so I thought I'd put in a ****cheat sheet for anyone who can't keep track of names and things like that:**

**Valentine and Jocelyn Morgenstern have four children: Jonathan (the oldest at 17), Clarissa and Lilith (Clary and Lily) are twins and both 16 years old, and Andrew, who hasn't been mentioned yet, is the youngest at 12. **

**Maryse and Robert Lightwood ****_have_**** two children and ****_had_**** four: Alec is 18 years old and in his last year of schooling (12th grade), Jace has been adopted from Celine and Stephen Herondale who are both dead, but he goes by the name of Lightwood and is 16 years old, Isabelle died (murdered), and Max also died. His cause of death was ruled uncertain, but the officials in St. Arren's assume it was murder, probably the same killer that killed Isabelle.**

**Huge, gigantic thank-you to all reviewers, readers, favoriters, and followers! Is there anything you guys are interested in seeing like characters, events, ect? I take all suggestions into account, so please, don't be shy :) Anyways, y'all are bloody ****_amazing!_**

**I was sending out previews for this chapter, so those that can be PM'ed have already had their reviews answered.**

**_Guest:_****Sorry! I try to update as quickly as possible. Thanks for reviewing though!**

**_Guest:_****One of the reasons I have Jace still unknowing of the story of the Morgensterns is because I wanted him to meet them (Clary, specifically) without any of the prejudice the rest of the town has (which they have for admittedly rational reasons). I didn't want him to treat her badly just because she's a Morgenstern, so his mind is very open and accepting of other outcasts like the Morgensterns. Not to mention Clary is very different (Lily, Andrew, and Jonathan too) from the rest of her family, so I thought Jace shouldn't blame her for the crimes her older relatives committed. Thanks for reviewing, and sorry I went off into such a long tangent there :) **


	4. Chapter 4: He's A Prat

**DISCLAIMER: 200% sure I am not Cassie. **

**Chapter Four: He's A Prat**

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><p><em>From the get-go I knew this was hard to hold<em>

_Like a crash the whole thing spun out of control_

_Oh, on a wire_

_We were dancing_

_Two kids, no consequences_

_Pull the trigger without thinking_

_There's only one way down this road_

—All Time Low, "Time Bomb"

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><p>A fist banged on her door, rattling its hinges as it threatened to burst loose, the noise mixing with the steady sound of rain pattering on the rooftop. Inside the well-barricaded room, Clarissa bolted upright. Her gaze shot to the clock with the cracked face and barely-on-time ebony hands.<p>

"Open the door, will you?" came the snappish tone on the outside of the door. She scowled at it, but swung her legs over the bedside and wrenched the door open. To her astonishment, Jonathan stood on the threshold, tapping his foot impatiently.

He arched a sardonic eyebrow at her. "And she awakens at last."

"What do you want?"

"Just to talk." Jonathan leaned arrogantly against the doorframe, his dark eyes blinking at Clarissa. Suspicion rose inside of her as he crossed the threshold of her room and closed the door with an inaudible click. "Clarissa, about Father's punishment—"

"What about it?" Clarissa interrupted swiftly, a frown appearing on her mouth. "Have you come to gloat? Or to get me in more trouble with Father? Out with it already."

He was silent for a minute. She defiantly crossed her arms together, glowering angrily at her brother until he spoke. "I didn't tell Father about you being in the weapons room," he said at last.

Clarissa was taken aback. She stumbled away from him, her foot catching briefly on the long tail of her dress. "What— what do you mean?"

"I mean," Jonathan repeated with a rising intensity, "that I _didn't turn you in. _I told Father nothing about it, not hind nor tail."

"But— you—" stammered Clarissa helplessly, her mind twisting itself into knots for an answer. "No. _No. _Father specifically told me, he told me that you saw me at 7:30 AM on a Saturday morning."

"I didn't—"

"Yes, you did," Clarissa argued stubbornly as her voice rose in volume. "You're just like the rest of our family: a lying, cheating, manipulative little—"

Jonathan took her shoulders and shook her. "Shut up, Clarissa! Do you want to wake the entire manor? Because you're two words away from that!"

"No, I don't," she hissed quietly at him. "I'm not stupid, Jonathan. I was clever enough to gain entrance to the weapons room. If I'd been a tiny bit cleverer, I could've gotten myself a stele before I was forcibly dragged out of the room."

He released her shoulders, breathing a heavy sigh out of his nose. "If you think you're not stupid, then why won't you listen to me?"

The set of her body stiffened; her mouth becoming a firm line. "I know you. I know what you're like."

"Do you really think so lowly of me?" A faint note of sadness tinged his tone.

Their eyes connected; black and green. Clarissa stared at him unflinchingly until he looked away. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"Clarissa, you _have _to listen to me," Jonathan insisted. "I wasn't even at the manor during 7:30 AM on a Saturday morning. I was at the _library." _

Clarissa froze. Jonathan's voice sounded like it was coming towards her through water, wavering and unintelligible.

_"Father, I have something to ask you."_

"I arranged it at dinner with Father the night before."

_"I'm going to the library tomorrow." _

_"For what?" Glasses thudded the table, forks and spoons clinked in a strange sort of rhythm. _

"I told him that I was going to do some research."

_"See," he said casually, leaning back in his chair, fingers wrapped around the stem of a wineglass, "I'm going to do some research. For the _cause."

_Clarissa stared impassively at him before he cut her a warning look. Cause? What cause? _

"He accepted. Told me to be on my merry way."

_"Excellent." Father's lips curved into a cold smile. _

"Oh, God," Clarissa breathed out in a jagged gasp. _Jonathan didn't do it. He was innocent. _"Oh, my God."

"Do you remember now?"

Her head bobbed up and down jerkily. "Then why did Father. . ."

Jonathan hesitated before striding over to the door and placing an ear to it. When he was satisfied with the lack of noises he heard, he walked back over to a pale Clarissa. "I've been thinking," he murmured slowly, "that we were raised apart for a reason. Me, you, Lily. At first, I couldn't figure out why. And then it hit me. Ever since we've been halved back together, Father is always encouraging enmity between you and Lily and me."

"Oh," realized Clarissa. "The fighting, the antagonizing comments, the. . . everything. It occurred to me once, but I decided I was imagining things that weren't there."

Jonathan frowned. "That's what I thought at first. But something wasn't right in the way Father seems to live for conflict. But why would he encourage so much conflict between us? It doesn't make sense."

Clarissa's mind spun as another piece fell into place. "No, it does," she muttered lowly. "Why would Father try so hard to keep Lily and I, especially, but all of us away from the weapons? Why doesn't he let us read certain books in the Morgenstern Manor Library? Why is there so many places in this house we can't go? And then I understood, Jonathan. He's— he's hiding something. He's been distracting us. . . with ourselves."

There was a split second of quiet where Jonathan inhaled sharply. "We have to tell—"

A fist thundered against the door. "CLARISSA MORGENSTERN!"

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><p>Jace hated Mondays with a fervor.<p>

_Why did I let Alec guilt me into coming to school again? _he grumbled to himself as he roughly yanked on a jacket. _Hell, why did I even talk to Alec? I must be an imbecilic sod._ He stomped down the creaky stairs.

"Ready to go, Jace?" Alec hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder, his eyes bright. Car keys clinked and clacked in his pocket.

Jace's gaze shot to the front window of the house. Through the glass panes, he could see a tall, slender girl with dark red hair in a braid walking down the street and avoiding misshapen puddles of rainwater.

"Jace?"

"I—what?" His attention snapped back to Alec, who was eyeing him suspiciously with a hard look on his face.

"I _said, _Jace, are you ready to go?"

"Er. . ." _Is the girl outside Lily or Clarissa? _Jace stared at her once again before deciding it was Lily, because Clarissa was very short with hair that was more carroty than Lily's. _Then where are Clarissa and their brother? _"I—I'm going to walk to school today, I think."

The other boy cocked his dark head at Jace, eyebrows furrowing in puzzlement. "You're not going to try and make a run for it?"

"What—no! I just wanted to. . . get some fresh air," Jace lied quickly. Outside, Lily had dropped a red notebook and was frowning distinctly at it. Alec scrutinized Jace thoroughly before stepping back uncertainly.

"Well," he muttered warily, "have a good walk. Stay out of trouble, all right?"

Jace nodded mechanically, waiting until he heard the rumble of the car starting and the telltale screech as it pulled out of the garage. He opened the front door and poked his head out to watch the car slide down the rained-upon streets before going out and locking it.

Lily was halfway down the street when Jace caught up to her. "Lily! Oi, Lily, wait up!"

She turned around. "I could hear you from all the way down the street, you know. Was that your brother that just left?"

Jace was tempted to ask how she even managed to hear him from that far away but held his tongue. _She probably won't tell me anyways. _"Where's your siblings?"

There was a delicate pause before Lily answered carefully, "Jonathan is busy. Clarissa is. . . ill. Bad virus. She's plenty happy to miss school in the first place."

There was a strange, stiff undertone that darted through her words, as if she was dissecting everything she said before it came out of her mouth. It was a mystery. And a lie.

"Oh." Jace let the issue go; Lily obviously wasn't going to give any more insight into the situation. _The Morgensterns and their secrets, _he thought furiously, _what are they bloody hiding?_

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><p>When school finally ended, Jace sprinted out of the building, not waiting for Alec to stride out from it and unlock the car fifteen minutes later. He ran the entire way home, only stopping at the house to drop his books in the doorway before heading into the forest behind his house.<p>

Even wrapped in a cloak of pre-stormy weather and gray skies, the forest was still beautiful. The trees, which had once been leafy and green, had their leaves morphed to fiery hues like scarlet and sunset orange and soft yellow as they drifted slowly yet surely towards the earthy ground. It was quiet and peaceful, and without all the chaos of other people, Jace could feel the set in his shoulders beginning to relax. Twenty minutes passed soundlessly before he could tell he wanted something to do.

_Clary? _

_Yes, Jace? _She sounded tired. Exhausted, like something had run her into the ground

_I'm sort of bored._

_Are you at school? _Exasperation coursed through her voice and a small smile rose up on Jace's mouth.

_No, I just got out. _

_Ugh, be happy you're at least allowed to leave your damn house, _she grumbled. _My father said I can't go to school or anywhere at all today because he wants to 'discuss something.' _

_Sounds more exciting than what I'm doing, _Jace thought at her as he went farther into the forest, watching trees pass by but not paying attention to where he was going.

_Except he's a prat. A real prat. And his high-and-mighty attitude is really wearing on me. I mean, you can only go so long hearing your pretentious father, for sod's sake, ramble on about wealth and houses and how you need to act and whatnot. _

_Keep talking to me then, okay? _A sudden surge of anger took flight in Jace. Didn't Clary's father know he couldn't control her? The first thing Jace learned about Clary was that her nature was reckless, rebellious, and easy to provoke. No one should even bother messing with her because she would serve it right back at them.

_You're the only thing keeping me sane over here, idiot, _she shot back teasingly. _Urgh, now Father's blabbering about my posture. . . and my clothing, apparently. How annoying._

_He's a dick, Clary. Don't listen to him. _

She sighed. _I wish I didn't have to. _

_Get earplugs, _he suggested.

_Ugh! You're absolutely no help at all, Jace. But—oh, wait—my torture has come to an end! What is this? Father has actually _stopped talking?!

_Finally._

_I know, right. . . Do you think I should go back to my room or somewhere else?_

Jace grinned. _Hell, go somewhere else._

_Exactly what I was going to do, _Clary agreed steadfastly. _It's getting tiring of doing what Father says; I feel like a puppet on strings. 'Do this, do that, obey everything I say.' I'm sick of it. Know the feeling?_

_Yeah. Nothing as extreme as your dad, but, still, I can sympathize. _Jace stared at his feet as they kept moving deeper into the autumn-colored woods. And then, he wasn't quite sure how it happened, but he was on his back, bracken and mud on his jacket. He looked up, startled like a deer in headlights, and there was the other Morgenstern girl across from him. Clarissa.

"Oh, bloody hell," she announced, her bright green eyes connecting with his, "I'm really sorry! Honestly, I got a bit sidetracked and, well. . ."

Jace stared at her. Mud was congealing along the hem of her ridiculous dress. Her shoeless feet were covered in dirt. Her red curls were oddly windswept. _There's something. . . No. Nothing. _

"Look, you're a real prat, but it's not like I ran into you on purpose, okay?"

Jace bolted upright, picking himself up from the ground. It felt as though he had just shook himself out of a long sleep. "It's fine. I wasn't looking where I was going either because. . . never mind. At least I can tell Alec the truth about how much I dislike his muddy jacket."

Clarissa's smile fractured the smallest bit as if there were fault lines in it and something had triggered a small-scale earthquake. "You have a brother?"

"Didn't I just say that?" He stared at her. _What is her problem?_

"God, just confirming it." The fractures in Clarissa had vanished, smoothed over by paint. The whole thing was gone so quickly that Jace felt like he'd went and imagined the entire thing.

A familiar silence fell between them. Jace's attention turned back to the girl in his head.

_Where'd you run off to? _

_The weirwood behind my house. Awfully convenient for escaping angry fathers, see. _

He laughed faintly, then caught himself before it became too loud. When there was no question of, "What are you laughing at?" from Clarissa, he slipped back into his mind. _You're lucky you have a weirwood—I just have a regular old forest. Not to insult the forest or anything. _

_Either way, you've got solace, _Clary pointed out.

_Yeah. Except there's this weird redheaded girl sitting next to me who keeps shooting me side-glowers- _

A jarring feeling hit Jace. The trees before him swirled into an enormous, warped picture as his vision blurred. Confusion and hurt hit him in one big, muddled epiphany, except they weren't _his _feelings—not exactly his. It felt like he couldn't breathe; as though everything in his body stopped for an eternity before it sped up to the speed of light. His breathing quickened, his heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest, and then he knew exactly who Clarissa Morgenstern was, because he had known her, spoke to her, laughed with her, thought of her for his entire life—

Everything came down to two simple words that flew out of him as he gripped _her _by the shoulders: "_You're _Clary?"

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><p><strong>Oh shit, a cliffhanger. <strong>

**Yes, I did that on purpose. Sorry. Completely necessary though :) And this is a shorter than normal chapter for me, so I'm sorry about that. The next one should be pretty long (hopefully)!**

**BUT GUYS THEY ACTUALLY MET! *squeals* Yes, I know I'm the one writing this story, but screw that, I'm excited anyways! **

**I would've updated faster, but Thanksgiving happened. . . So yeah. Happy late Thanksgiving to all those who celebrate it! **

**Enormous, gigantic thank you to all the readers, reviewers, favoriters, and followers! You lot make IFTP go 'round :)**

**_lindsayhonaker:_****I'm glad you like the idea! I thought it would be slightly entertaining to have them both be thinking, 'Oh, he's a jerk' and 'Ugh, she's weird' when they're actually the other's best friend and don't realize they're talking about each other. Thanks for reviewing :)**

**_kay xxxx: _****Sorry the update took. . . what, twenty days? Urgh. Aside from my spectacularly crappy updating time, what do you think of Chp. 4? Thanks for the review!**

**_lemonofweirdness:_****Thank you :) I hope you keep enjoying it as it progresses! Also, thanks for reviewing!**

**_Alexa:_****Wow, thank you so much! I'm flattered that you think so! Well, Jace and Clary meet in this chapter, and no, I can safely confirm to anyone who's curious about Jonathan and his weird canon relationship with Clary that it is DEFINITELY not happening in Falling to Pieces. Ew. I can't think of writing something like that haha. I can't say anything else about Izzy and Max besides the fact that they were killed because spoilers :P Also, about COTF, the update is coming soon! The chapter I'm working on is the Clarill chapter, so all the Clarill shippers out there are getting their wish :) Thanks for the awesome review!**


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